When I decided to sit down (read: curl up in bed under a duvet) to finally write a blog post tonight, I didn’t even realize I would do it while watching the new season of The Great British Bake Off. As I wrote about cookies. As I wrote about cookies well-suited to ice cream sandwiches. As I watched a bunch of Brits bake biscuits destined to be biscuit sandwiches for Paul Hollywood and that new lady who isn’t Mary Berry. THIS WAS MEANT TO BE.
One of my first ever memories was sneaking food from the floor of the pantry while my mom did laundry.
Not to hit you with two dessert posts back to back…but that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m here to give you another dessert post and there’s nothing to be done about that.
It’s that time of year when everyone seems to be in the south of France (I mean, what the hell do I need to do to be one of these people?!), gallivanting about in sundresses with a rosé IV stuck in their arm from yacht party to yacht party. (Disclaimer: I work in advertising and it happens to be the Cannes award festival this week…so that’s maybe why you don’t know someone jet-setting off to the French Riviera right now.)
I love throwing parties. If I had a truly disposable income and an untiring pool of friends, I’d throw a party a month.
Good news, everyone. I’ve successfully gone without sausage for a day and a half now.
I bought a pasta maker with a gift certificate from last Christmas. Almost a year later, I’m finally using it. So. Typical.
There are so many wonderful smells in the world. Fresh lilacs. Dried lavender. Warm laundry. New cars. Chicken roasting. Bacon frying. Brisk autumn air. These are all beautiful and evocative smells that make life so sweet. But bread baking? That might be my raison d’être. Or at least, that’s what I thought to myself two weekends in a row, each time I made maple oat bread. If I could have bread baking in my apartment at all times without even eating the bread, I would be content. It smells that good.
A Pinch of This 